Kira Embers's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Kira Embers had drilled for three months to win a medal she could not earn in camp. She stood in the mud yard before dawn, thrusting her spear at a straw dummy while the other soldiers still slept. Each strike landed clean. No one watched. That was the problem. The commander gave honors to men who bled at the front, and her regiment had never left the yard. She wiped her palms on her tunic and checked the fit of her helmet. The dented brim hid her cropped hair. The bindings across her chest held tight. She had learned to grunt low, to spit like the men, to keep her calloused hands busy so no one looked at her face. A woman in the ranks would be dragged out and whipped. A soldier who never fought would be forgotten. She wanted the second fate even less. At roll call, the sergeant gave the same orders as always. Drill. Clean the yard. Wait. Kira pushed to the front of the line. "Sir. When do we march?" The sergeant did not look up. "We don't. No orders have come. The runners can't find a safe road past the river." The river. Kira knew what lived in it. The giant crocodiles kept every messenger on the far bank. No road meant no orders. No orders meant no front, and no front meant no medal. That night she slipped out past the tents. She found the stable and the mail horse tied there, still saddled from a failed run. A worn leather saddlebag hung from its side. The buckles were scuffed and the edges frayed. She opened the flap and found the sealed dispatch inside, undelivered. The map showed a ford the runners feared. Kira took the horse. She rode to the ford before sunrise. The water lay still and brown. She saw the ridged back of a crocodile break the surface, then sink. She did not cross there. Instead she followed the bank upstream until the water narrowed over stone. She led the horse across at a run, the bag slapping its flank. She reached the next camp by midday and handed over the dispatch. The officer there broke the seal, read, and stared at her. "This orders your regiment to the front. It's been stuck two weeks." Kira rode back with the answer. She dropped from the horse and gave the sergeant the signed command. By nightfall the whole yard moved. Tents came down. Spears were counted. The regiment finally had a road to the fighting. The sergeant held the dispatch and frowned at her. "You crossed the river alone. The commander will want your name." Kira felt the cold spread in her chest. She had wanted the commander to notice her valor. Now he would notice her. And a closer look was the one thing she could not survive.